


Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: An Evening Lesson

by DirtyScrolls



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Companions Questline (Elder Scrolls), Dirty Talk, Fantastic Racism, Fighting Kink, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Roughness, mostly consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25255231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls
Summary: Naturally, the Dragonborn wants to teach Athis a little more than archery.
Relationships: Athis/Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: An Evening Lesson

Apart from the fun of throwing his weight around and roughing people up, there was only one reason Kordin (already Listener, Thane, and Guildmaster) decided to join the Companions, put himself through their petty hazings, go on low-paid treks to save ungrateful citizens from bandits and animal pests. 

That reason was the slim, ferocious Dunmer named Athis. 

This grim-faced, arrogant grey treasure did not seem to like Kordin much. Indeed, he didn’t seem to like many people, with the exception of a blond Nord named Torvar, maybe one of the wolf twins (Kordin couldn’t tell them apart), and maybe old Whitemane himself. And, when they weren’t arguing, Njada Stonearm. 

Maybe.

In fact, the first time the Nord entered the cool, firelit hall, out of boredom and curiosity, he saw Athis engaged in a brawl with Stonearm--and finding himself on the losing end. He moved his trim, wiry body quickly and cleverly, but after awhile it wasn’t any match for her unusual arm strength. He yielded with blood coming out of his nose and bruises everywhere. The sight made Kordin embarrassingly excited, something he had to try to suppress when he went to talk to Whitemane about joining up. 

“Fortune and glory,” were good enough reasons for doing that, sure, but Kordin thought “quality elf flesh” was just fine, too. 

When he was too drunk or lazy, he slept at Jorrvaskr with the rest of them instead of walking the few steps down to Breezehome. He swore he could pick the smell of Athis’s sweat out from that of the others. 

The man slept like a rock, silent and still as a beautiful corpse, but he smelled like sun-hot steel and the spice of his own very lively body, and warm leather.

The tough grey-skin was tempting enough in his short sleeping tunic, but during the day it was worse. 

He wore leather armor to cover his front and back below the waist, with only some straps over his shoulders to hold his weapons. His fit shoulders and arms and his chiseled back and abdomen were almost entirely exposed, while the leather below showed tantalizing glimpses of his muscle-corded thighs above his boots. 

His face was fixed in a permanent scowl, but it was undeniably handsome, with sharp angles and sharper deep red eyes. Pale warpaint or tattoos, Kordin wasn’t sure which, rendered his features even more imposing, but also enhanced the strong elegant shape of cheeks and jaw, and drew attention to the wide, down-turned mouth. 

When Athis drawled, “They’re letting anyone in these days”, Kordin wanted to strip that skimpy armor off him and show him what “letting anyone in” felt like. 

A Daedra he’d pleased—and he’d pleased so many—must have been looking out for him. 

Waking up with a hellacious hangover after a drinking binge (during which he was half-sure he’d made out with one of the wolf twins—Vilkas?), he overheard his grey morsel asking Aela to help him with some finer points of archery later. She said she was busy, but would try to fit it in. Athis responded with dour thanks.

Kordin was an accomplished archer—a skill which served him will in his clandestine life. He volunteered his services, if Athis cared to come with him on a hunt later. The Dunmer grunted assent. 

Kordin made sure to be as charming and comradely as he could, no matter how sarcastic the Dunmer’s remarks. And Athis was doing well, improving quickly, if Kordin were honest with himself. Late in the evening, toward dusk, he nailed a relatively difficult shot at an elk, and Kordin touched his wrist gently in congratulations and looked him in his keen red eyes.

“You’re a damn fast learner,” Kordin said.

“I guess you expect a compliment on your teaching.”

Kordin laughed. “Not from you, I don’t.”

“What’d’ya mean?”

“Just that you don’t exactly hand out compliments,” Kordin said, smiling slightly. “That’s not why I took you out, anyway.”

Athis gave him an unreadable look, all narrowed dark red eyes.

“Then why are we here?”

Kordin took several steps toward Athis, who deepened his usual scowl and stood his ground.

“Because I wanted to be alone with you. I think I can teach you a few… extra things.”

“What makes you think I need your ‘extra’ teaching?”

Kordin was already tired of talking, so he kissed Athis forcefully, almost biting his lips, one arm around his waist, the other up around his head so he could cup the back of his skull and pull at his rust-colored hair. 

Athis was too stunned to resist at first. Then he pushed the muscular Nord away.

“What’d’ya think you’re doing, s’wit?”

Kordin yanked his hair. Athis didn’t react beyond a minute pained expression.

“Kissing you,” Kordin said, doing it again, trying to get past the grey-skin’s closed lips.

“You think I’m just going to let you?” Athis asked, pushing again, his lips turning up a bit.

“Who says I want you to ‘just let me’?” 

Kordin moved closer, crowding Athis’s smaller body in against a tree.

Athis hit him in the belly. 

It hurt fiercely, deeply. He had a sharp little fist. 

Kordin tackled him to the ground. Athis was all knees and elbows and sinewy muscle, and tough as a troll. By the end of the first minute of their struggle, the Nord though he must be as hard for him as he’d ever been for anyone—even the wanton Teldryn Sero, even the dangerous Ravyn Imyan. 

Athis. The vicious thing wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t be pinned down; he was just rapid firm grey flesh, never quite here nor there, slithering, impossible. The tussle seemed to go on forever, and Kordin thoroughly enjoyed grappling with the warm slim body.

Finally, Kordin got him on the ground with his forearm against his hot soft throat. He could feel his pulse jumping. What’s more, there was Athis’s bulge against his own thigh. 

He reached under the scraps the elf called armor and gripped his prick. It was fully hard, not even half-mast the way Imyan got.

“Ah,” he said, “I see.”

He lifted his arm off Athis’s neck and kissed him again. This time Athis kissed back, lacing his fingers into Kordin’s blond hair, and tugged. 

“Bite,” said Athis. “C’mon.”

“Only if you bite me too, gorgeous thing.”

“Oh, I will.”

Kordin sunk his teeth into the lean grey neck, tasting the sweat on the skin, making Athis arch his cock into him. He licked over the place where he’d bitten, feeling the grooves of his teeth deep in the flesh.

“You like that, grey-skin?”

Athis growled his approval and gave Kordin a reciprocal bite on his throat. Kordin shuddered.

“You like that, ice-man?” asked the Dunmer.

“Divines, yeah,” sighed Kordin, grinding his cock down into Athis’s bare thigh. “I think you drew blood.”

“Not yet,” Athis said, looking even tastier as he smiled a devilish smile.

Kordin kissed him again, nipping. Their hard pricks were pressed together through thin cloth and worn leather.

“Lemme take this off you,” Kordin demanded, licking at Athis’s pointed ear and starting to unhook the straps that held the mer’s revealing armor together. “Been wondering what else you’ve got for me under that little bit of armor.” 

“Easy to move in it, not bulky,” Athis explained offhandedly, shifting to make Kordin’s work faster.

“Yeah, well, it’s damn easy to look at too. Probably distract your fair share of enemies.”

Athis shrugged, or tried to, as Kordin had him pinned by one shoulder and was still working on the complicated armor.

“What about yours?” Athis asked, his voice rough. “I wanna see you too.”

Kordin tugged at his hair with one hand and at one of the straps with the other.

“Be patient, handsome. You’ve been driving me crazy all evening.”

He opened the last strap and removed the armor. Now Athis was naked except for his sweaty, tented loincloth. Practically drooling, Kordin pulled it off and caressed the Dunmer’s long cock, which curved up gracefully toward his belly. 

“You’re going to like this,” Kordin told him, sliding down to wrap his wet lips around that eager member. He kept his hands on Athis’s thighs as he filled his mouth with fragrant grey hard flesh. 

He sucked him expertly, ruthlessly, listening to his gravelly moans and cries and using his strong hands to keep him from squirming too much. Athis’s cock dribbled into his mouth, already leaking delicious brackish fluid. Kordin didn’t want him to come quite yet, so he lifted his head and looked up into the hazy red eyes.

“I guess you like it rough.”

“Seems you do too.”

“You’re about ready to shoot straight down my throat, aren’t you? Really enjoyed our little match, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Athis sighed, as Kordin fondled him. “Now, why don’t you get down there and finish?”

Kordin grinned and slapped his thigh, leaving a pleasing red mark he could see in the dying sun and the waxing light of the two moons. Athis jumped a bit. Experimentally, Kordin pinched his muscular inner thigh. Athis groaned in half-pleasure, and reached to grip Kordin’s hair, trying to push him back onto his cock. A sensual chill ran from the Nord’s follicles down his spine.

“Alright, grey-skin. But only because you taste so fucking sweet.”

He bent and swallowed Athis in a smooth motion, all the way to his red pubic hair. With one hand, he pushed against his hard thigh. With the other, he reached to cup and play with his balls. Athis’s moans rose into the trees. 

Kordin prided himself on his oral skills--as he did on all his sexual skills, when he bothered to think about it--especially given he didn’t practice using his mouth often. 

This pride was bolstered when hot seed began to spurt from the throbbing tube of silk flesh in his mouth. He sucked Athis through his writhing orgasm, swallowing everything, then lifting himself up on one hand to smirk triumphantly at the spent, panting elf.

“You Nord bastard,” Athis gasped, “By fucking Azura....”

“I thought you didn’t give compliments.”

Athis reached and tugged his hair again, and again Kordin felt shivery electricity.

“You earned it this time,” the mer said.

Kordin crawled up to kiss the Dunmer with the taste of his own semen in his mouth. He nibbled on his lips and tongue, just enough to let him feel teeth. At the same time, he pressed against Athis’s bare thigh.

“Maybe you’re finished,” he told him, holding his face and looking into his satisfied bright eyes, “but I’m not. What’re you gonna do about that, love?”

“Oh,” Athis said, giving a tired crooked little smile, “I trust you can come up with something real easily.”

“Give me your ass.”

“Got any oil?”

“Of course I do,” Kordin replied, worrying Athis’s ear with his teeth, “I took you out here because I wanted you, and I don’t want to hurt myself getting inside. Bet you’re fucking tight.” He pinched Athis’s shoulder muscle. “Such a tight little body. Turn over. Or are you gonna make me turn you?”

“It’s only fair I make it easy on you, I suppose,” he said, shifting under Kordin. 

The Nord moved back so that Athis could roll over in the grass. His naked buttocks were sculpted and lean, the skin soft under Kordin’s exploring hand. He took a moment kneading the muscles of the back, moving down slowly to the thighs.

“Gods,” he breathed to himself, parting the cheeks and massaging the small warm hole between, “Can’t wait to get in there.”

For a few moments, he scissored Athis’s asshole open, fingers coated with oil, while Athis wriggled in mounting arousal. 

Kordin opened his own armor just enough to get his prick out, too eager to strip. 

It was indeed tight, but not as tight as he had expected. The elf was slick and ready after being stuck with oiled thick Nord fingers. He grunted softly at the incursion, and his back muscles tightened up.

“Good,” he murmured, “You’re big.”

“More compliments?”

“You earned it again,” Athis said, breathing hard as Kordin grabbed his hips and began. 

He could hear the slurp of the oil as he fucked him with increasing speed and depth, could feel Athis clenching around him, hear his harsh deep groans. Athis backed up into him, meeting each thrust.

“Let me ride you,” the elf demanded, breathing hard.

So Kordin sat back against the tree behind him and pulled Athis onto his lap, relishing the hot weight of the Dunmer’s slender frame straddling him, the feel of his ass-cheeks and the hole tightening around his cock as Athis slid down it and moaned. Kordin put his hands on the sides of the elf’s narrow waist and helped him rock up and down. 

Athis braced himself by pressing firmly on the Nord’s extended legs. His tied-back hair was half undone, his beautiful neck and back shimmering with sweat. His sounds were low and animal. He felt fantastic wrapped around Kordin’s prick, plunging it into himself, into his hot smooth body.

Kordin wanted it to go on forever, but he came on an out-thrust, the orgasm spilling over almost without warning. 

No, it never lasted long enough with Dunmer. 

Athis slid off him with a sated grunt. Kordin relished the erotic sight of seed dribbling out over the pink rim of his hole as he moved. Then Athis turned and bit his shoulder, then kissed him firmly.

“Help me out,” he said, grimacing, indicating his erection with one hand while he gripped Kordin’s wrist with the other.

“Sure,” the Nord laughed, “You’ve definitely earned it.”

“Just do it.”

Kordin licked his palm, took the mer’s flushed sensitive cock in hand and began to jerk him, using some of his slick pre-come to ease the way. After only a few strokes, Athis again squirmed and cried out and came. 

For a several moments, they rested as they were. Then they got up, cleaned themselves, and made camp, settling in naked on one bedroll to pass mead back and forth.

“More tomorrow,” Athis said, as he closed his eyes.

“Any time. I’d fuck you on the mead-hall table in front of all of them, if I could.”

Athis yawned.

“Fucking sweet-talker. Might consider taking you up on that, but only if we can wrestle in the morning. Re-match.”

Kordin wondered if he was drunker on the mead than he’d thought. This was as lucky as discovering Teldryn Sero.

“You promise?”

“Yeah.” Athis turned over to sleep. “Maybe I’ll win this time.”


End file.
